And She Drones In Red
by Vosien
Summary: [re-upload from ao3] The colour red never suited Mia. However she wore that particular colour more times than she would like to count.


The colour red never suited Mia.

Ethan was quick to point out the elephant in the room, when they had dinner on their first date, turning up in a crimson dress. From past – or therefore a lack of experiences with women – careful words were toyed about, to distanced any form of harm towards his date. However, till this day the suppose observation lingers, even long after their date. Now married, Mia never wore the colour red afterwards, ever refuses to do so until it became a habit to wear everything else than the colour red.

Despite the amount of effort the handler strays herself from the warm tone, the colour red is a natural figment in life. As the agent is given a gun in one hand, a parcel in another, Mia's occupation often left her bringing home a litre of red paint. A sole reminder of the dangers each and every single one process, as the stains of another's fluid seeps through her body from time and time again. More than once does Ethan backtrack his foot step and stares, concern touch upon his gaze and eager fingertips wants nothing more than to remove the crimson markings.

Even when Mia makes the effort to clean up before coming home, the smell of another's fluid made themselves at home one way or another.

She knew lying to her husband stains a stable relationship, as both would be washed by guilt – one from deception and another's inabilities to trust - followed by anger as an argument would break out.

One day - Mia told herself when tears roll down her cheeks, head against the shower head - she'll tell him the truth.

 _She'll expose everything._

However now, as of right now, the moment has yet to come.

Especially when her life in the line.

There is an unspeakable amount of destruction if the parcel were to fall to the wrong hands. While many companies relied on experiences. Mia happen to be young, flexible, young, and rather eager to please. Thus, prefect for the job. However she's no killer despite her training both was in hand to hand combat and gunship, in the end of the day, her job is to deliver the subject unharmed, regardless of the situation. A bullet was something the agent never found herself to use, compare to a single knife.

Always careful to blend with the background, Mia fancy outfits that are comfortable, loose, and quite dark. Even after marriage, very little did her styled change, only harbours some sort of spice when either her husband or her own needs come into play.

So when Mia found herself with her back slammed against the wall, a groan escape her lips. Tired eyes force themselves to locate the source of the damage. It didn't take long for her mind to regain consciousness as another's footsteps could be heard walking towards her. For a moment Mia felt her heart skipped a beat when red heels came into view, and then gasp when her brown gaze clash against her attacker. "You?"

 _"Oh?"_ The other women respond, head titled on the side, arms crossed allowing a certain blade display in full view. A warning to some degree. "I see you're aware of my existences then?"

"Ada Wong." Mia wanted to spat, but coughed her name instead.

The handler's weakens stance was enough to loosen Ada's defenses, but held the knife rather close just in case of any sudden moments. Yet was rather amused a mere handler was even aware of her existences. Of course this does not mean Ada is not prepared herself. Gathering the basic knowledge of handler's information was fairly simple enough. From her name, whereabouts, and known combat skills. The internet is a wonderful place.

"I don't understand why they continue to hire you." The Asian spy whispers, feeting shifting from the right to the left.

Mia on the other hand didn't respond at first, although it didn't take a genius to point out what Ada was referring too. "My marriage shouldn't concern you."

"Oh it doesn't." Ada smirks, as she pulled out a magazine and slotted it into the handgun. A click echoes through the hallway, "But I know your husband will miss you." Taking a step forward, and with the back of the handgun, knocking Mia down.

The handler didn't stand a chance regardless, and both of them knew it.

The sample was gone when Mia woke up. Her partner, Alan, explained the situation followed by an apology as failure to protect her.

"So, what was she like?" She had a feeling Alan would asked eventually once they were back in the States, especially with the sample now out of their grasp, it was a matter of time curiosity would get the better of him.

She rolled her eyes, but fed his curiosity nevertheless. "Like they said, a 'bitch in the red dress.'"

A week later Mia received another call from the same company. Despite her failure to deliver the sample to Norway, she was chosen along with her partner for their next delivery. Details were belief, and only asked Mia to pose as an older sister. Bitting her lips, at first Mia was hesitate, aware her husband's gaze bores behind her.

"Yeah, I'm in." She finally responded when brown orbs spotted a certain red dress in her closet. A flash of anger flares up, when the fiery tone reminded her of a certain black haired.

The colour red never suited Mia.

However she wore that particular colour more times than she cares to count.

Settling the phone down, she'll have to deal with her husband another time.


End file.
